


the old you is gone

by TooManyGaysTooLittleTime



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Gen, Kissing, Loss of Powers, Past Character Death, Pretend that Amren/Varian didn’t happen, Romantic Fluff, She/they pronouns for Amren, Short & Sweet, but very very minor, fluff with barely any plot, ish, just. soft cryptid gfs, up to just after ACoWaR because i refuse to waste my money any longer on those books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime/pseuds/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime
Summary: Amren and Elain Archeron are both changed by the war.Whether it is for the better will have to be seen.
Relationships: Amren & Elain Archeron, Amren/Elain Archeron
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	the old you is gone

**Author's Note:**

> hello :)! just wanted to do a short piece about amren and elain post acowar because i feel like they would be good together!! 
> 
> title from new you by zolita which i will link to when i’m able to

Elain’s hands shake, even when she is clutching a book. Even when the night has fled from the sky and sunlight streams brightly inwards through the windows. 

She is thin, a spindly wraithlike shape where she is curled upon the chaise longue. The gossamer fabric of her dress flows over her like water, nearly glowing where the sun from the window hits it. Flowers run rampant through her hair, yet they are wilted at the edges. Their youthful beauty is old and grey, crumbling, when inspected closely. 

It is a detail which very much seems to suit Elain Archeron—young in body, and so old and weary in mind. 

While the others are disturbed, even startled, around her, Amren feels the pull of kinship between them. It is not a mating bond—it could never be a mating bond, not when their sole purpose was to beget an heir—but instead something deeper, stronger than the paltry link between Elain and Lucien. 

She pauses at the entrance to the library, not wishing to be overly forwards. Amren knows well how otherly beings like to keep to themselves, and while she doubts Elain would have the ability to be angry with anyone, let alone retaliate at the perceived invasion, caution is always a sensible quality when necessary. 

Amren knocks, a soft, gentle sound, meant to show Elain that they means no harm. 

From her place within the shadowed hall, she sees Elain’s soft, rose-pink lips part and her eyes lift from the creamy page of the book in her lap. She glistens with droplets of light bathing her, as much a celestial being as the Night Court itself. 

“I have... seen you.” Elain murmurs. “You, the outlier in this world. You, the curious one who could not keep yourself away. Yes, I have seen you.” 

Amren seals their lips, allowing Elain to talk. Her eyes are glazed over and she stares blankly, a strand of decaying vine falling onto a plump cheek. 

“You had it all,” Elain whispers, the book on her lap shifting as she moves. “The most powerful of them all.”

All that she says is true, of course. Amren had always been aware of her own powers. Sometimes they had weighed upon her as a burden, the strength of them too difficult for her to carry. Other times, they had been the fountain, the source of her fortitude and courage. Handling their presence had been difficult, indeed, and yet they still wonder what would have happened if they had held onto them. 

“Why did you give them up? You could have had it all,” Her voice is silk, drapes over Amren with the promise of power and strength and luxury. She moves upwards from the chaise, the book falling to the floor, forgotten, and her dress streams easily onto the floor. 

Amren lets out a shaky breath. “I had to let them go.” They had always been upon her, suffocating her and constricting her. At times, she did not dare to use any sort of magic, for fear they would erupt before their time. 

There had always been a limit, an end for Amren’s power. They had always known that they could not keep them forever. One day, her forgotten power would have to burst free. 

And, now that it has, and Amren is still here... 

It is an understatement to say that she is alienated without them.

“I had believed you to be a hoarder,” Elain says. She is much closer to Amren, and parts of her body are shadowed. Only half her cheek is lit up in the sunlight, and the flowers are darkening by the moment. 

“I changed.” Amren answers simply. 

“Yes, indeed.” Her tone is curious, agreeing rather than arguing. “And yet, I sense you still yearn to return to how you were.” 

They swallow. “As do you,” Amren answers. 

Elain turns her head to the side, thoughtfully. “Perhaps I did, once. Not so much any longer.” 

“Does it still hurt?” 

“Oh, yes, very much so.” Elain skates the tips of her fingers gently up Amren’s arm, and the bare skin goose-pimples when her touch moves away. “I sense, however, it will heal with time.” 

“What about me?” Amren asks again, unsure of whether to touch Elain in return or not. “Have you seen me in your visions?”

A frown mars Elain’s forehead, and Amren feels the urge to smoothe their thumb across it. “You are... difficult. The others, they are easier. You, meanwhile...” 

“I know,” Amren whispers, closing her eyes and leaning in closer to Elain so her breath mixes with Elain’s own flower-scented one.

She thinks Elain closes her eyes as well, and feels the press of a warm forehead to hers. Elain’s hand is still upon Amren’s arm, not gripping but merely holding, and her other arm moves upwards to rest lightly against Amren’s collarbone and the slant of her shoulder and neck. 

Elain lets out a breathy sigh, hands shaking where she is touching Amren. Soft tremors that run into Amren’s skin and stay beneath the surface, creating small faults within them. 

Amren does not want Elain’s hands to tremble any longer. She slides her own hand up to Elain’s wrist and runs a finger across the knuckles, soothing her. 

_It is fine here. I know you. I understand you._

When Amren opens her eyes, she sees Elain staring back at her. Their stare is poignant, a thousand miniature destinies and wars and deaths contained within it. 

None of the destinies, the wars, the deaths matter when their lips press together, easy as a fire from a spark. 

Elain is soft and slow, and thus Amren is, as well. Their breath mingles, flowers and spice and starlight, in the pauses, and Amren closes their eyes and believes that this is all they could ever need. 

When Elain eases out of their kiss, it is hesitant, nudging Amren away. She steps back, sunlight running onto her brow and cheekbone and illuminating the flowers tangling through her hair. 

Her eyes are bright and wondrous, and if Amren looks closely, she believes that she can see their entire future written within them. 

“I had known that it would come to pass.” Elain murmurs. “And so it will come again, and again. Until we heal.” 

_Until we heal._

Amren does not believe she has heard any more promising words in her life than those. 

And so, a flower bursts into bloom in Elain’s hair and Amren’s heart. 

**Author's Note:**

> not to be self-centred but i genuinely think this one is good you guys... 
> 
> what do you think?? i’d love to hear your thoughts on this piece!! any and all feedback (comments, kudos) are appreciated <333333


End file.
